My larger education : $b Being chapters from my experienceWashington, Booker T.
General
My larger education : $b Being chapters from my experience
Washington, Booker T.
African Americans -- Biography; Educators -- United States -- Biography; Washington, Booker T., 1856-1915
Perhaps I can best illustrate what I mean when I say that education
should connect itself with life, by describing a type of rural school
which we have worked out and are seeking to establish in Macon County.
There are several schools in our county which might be called, in a
certain sense, model country schools. There are nearly fifty communities
in which, during the last four or five years, new school buildings have
been erected and the school terms lengthened to eight and nine months,
largely with funds collected from the Negro farmers under the direction
and inspiration of the Tuskegee Institute.
[Illustration:
THE “RISING STAR” SCHOOLHOUSE
With which the community was once satisfied
]
[Illustration:
THE “RISING STAR” SCHOOLHOUSE
That the changed conditions have produced
]
The school that I have in mind is known as the “Rising Star.” That is
the name that the coloured people gave to their church, and that is now
the name which has become attached to the little farming community
surrounding it. The “Rising Star” community is composed of some score or
more of hard-working, thrifty, successful Negro farmers, the larger
number of whom own their land. There is no wealth in this community;
neither is there much, if any, actual want. When I first made the
acquaintance of “Rising Star,” soon after beginning my work in Alabama,
the church which gave the neighbourhood its name was an old, dilapidated
building, located in a wornout field. It was about the worst looking
building that I had ever seen, up to that time, in which to carry on the
work of saving men’s souls. The condition of the farmhouses, the farms,
and the school was in keeping with the condition of the church. This was
true also of the minister. He was run down and dilapidated. I used
frequently to go Sunday afternoons to hear him preach. His sermons
usually held on for about an hour and a half. I remember that I used to
study them carefully from week to week in the hope that I might hear him
utter, at some time or other, a single sentence that seemed to me to
have any practical value to any man, woman, or child in his
congregation. I was always disappointed, however. Almost without
exception, his sermons related to something that is supposed to have
taken place two or three thousand years ago, or else they were made up
of a vivid description of the horrors of hell and of the glories of
heaven.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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